More Than Just a Game
by icanhearyouglaring
Summary: Freshmen vs Seniors Dodgeball. Friday. 6PM. Geoff Gym. (a high school au)


Disclaimer: AGES ARE not CANON. enjoy this tomfoolery.

* * *

 _FRESHMEN VS SENIORS DODGEBALL. FRIDAY. 6PM. GEOFF GYM._

The text circulates through every clique in Happy Harbor High within two class periods on Wednesday. All phone-less students find post-it notes in their lockers with details. Carpools are planned. Janitors are warned. Cool teachers are invited.

No one is safe.

On Thursday, the Sophomore class takes a side. Juniors, in an act of defiance, back the Freshmen. The mudslinging gets dirtier than the under side of the ancient stadium bleachers.

That afternoon, under the blazing sun in the quad, volunteered names are drawn from an old football helmet by the ASB president. She chooses the brave souls who will represent their class level in the sure-to-be-merciless battle. It's decided that the teams will be eight-on-eight and the freshmen will wear red. The seniors are still deciding.

Megan clears her throat before she picks up her cheer megaphone and motions for the rowdy crowd to quiet down.

"I'll start with the Freshmen," she calls out. "Bart Allen, please come down!"

A blur cuts through the crowd, elbowing everyone in his path. "I'm here!"

Megan has him stand next to her before she reads the next name, "Cassie Sandsmark!"

A squeal sounds from behind her and Cassie nearly trips over her sneakers trying to get in line besides Bart.

"Virgil Hawkins!"

Said freshman pumps his fist in the air, once and only once, before he joins his friends in the center of the circle.

"Too slow!" Someone's shout emanates from the middle of the crowd, but no one really knows where it came from.

"Alright," Megan laughs, "Jaime Reyes, Tim Drake, Mary Bromfield, Garfield Logan, and Billy Batson!"

As the younger kids line up, the Seniors go still. Their time has come. Someone starts a drumroll. Two band members start playing lowly on their saxophones. It's quiet chaos as Megan pulls up her megaphone again and says,

"Now for Seniors!" She pulls a name and continues, "First up, Roy Harper!"

A groan louder than the Senior's cheer breaks out from the Freshmen and Juniors. Everyone knows Roy holds half of the school's archery records. His aim is impeccable. _Legend has it he can pin a fly to the wall, by its wing, with only a thumbtack and a rubberband_ , one Junior whispers to her friend. Their team is doomed from the start.

"Dick Grayson!"

Most people cheer for him, no matter what side they're on. He's too damn good of a person to boo. Plus, everyone's a little scared to get on his bad side (if one exists).

"Artemis Crock!"

One Freshman begins to walk away. _It's no use_ , he thinks, throwing his hands in the air before he calls his mom to come pick him up. Artemis holds the other half of the school's archery records. And everyone's scared of her.

"Wally West!"

More than a few people boo, and rightfully so. The track star ignores his haters and blows kisses to his fans as he saunters up to the lineup. His scary girlfriend pulls his princess-waving hand down as soon as he gets within arms reach.

"Kal Durham!"

More than a few people swoon, and rightfully so. The crowd parts and the captain of the swim team cuts through with a grace envied by the most elegant dancer.

"Karen Beecher, Zatanna Zatara, and- Conner Kent! Hope you're ready, Hornets! See you tomorrow night! Get home safe!"

-o-

In a dark room, a flickering light sways over a single table, illuminating the serious faces of the chosen ones as it swings.

Everyone is blinded when Megan walks in and flicks on the rest of the lights.

"Oh fuck-"

"It burns!"

"Aww man," Wally groans, rubbing at his eyes. "We looked so cool!"

Artemis rolls her eyes and leans in her chair, tipping it back onto two legs. Across the table, Roy taps his fingers on the table in a rhythmic pattern and stares at the fly buzzing around the room. Conner might be sleeping, but no one is going to ask. Kal rolls Silly Putty in his hands and rolls the ball to Karen, who passes it to Zatanna, who nails Dick in the face with the tiny projectile.

"Gotta be faster than that if you're going to be on my team, Grayson," she chides, shaking a finger at him.

"Children," Roy snaps, slamming his hand on the table. "Play nice. Let's all remember who the real enemy is."

"Okay, Katniss," Artemis says, as she examines a pesky chip in her nail.

Roy twitches. Wally high fives his girlfriend's outstretched hand.

"Wait, before we discuss strategy," Karen leans forward and places some scrap paper in front of them all, "we need to finalize our uniforms."

-o-

In a less ominous room, the Freshmen hold their own meeting of the minds. Battle plans are written up, along with crude side drawings. Mary hands out the plain red shirts her mom got for them all.

At the end of their meeting, they stand in a circle and place their hands in the middle. No one makes a sound until Bart yells,

"What team?!"

"Freshmen!"

"What team?!"

"FRESHMEN!"

"What the hell are you kids doing in my office?!" Principal Gardner's voice booms over their heads as he swings open the door. Bart grabs the plans, Virgil's wrist, and runs. The rest of his team follows suit, dodging the principal's long arms.

Billy doesn't make it.

-o-

The roar of the crowd sends chills down the spines of all the players as they enter the battle arena. The gym is packed with students, parents, teachers, and some kids from surrounding high schools. The hype is real, and there's a lot to live up to.

The Freshmen enter from one end of the gym, carried on the backs of their brethren. Their bright red shirts stand out in the sea of people. As the welcome wagon disperses to their reserved seating section, the players crack their necks or knuckles and approach the playing field with fierce looks of determination.

Suddenly, the lights in the gym go dark. Glowing fog begins to seep from two main doors. The doors fly open and a spotlight hones in on the approaching Seniors. Every one of them is clothed in a black crop top, black spandex shorts, and long black socks. A few sport black headbands or wristbands. All have streaks of black lined on their cheeks.

They are warriors, ready for battle and all it entails. They have seen horrible, horrible things, but have soldiered on. Nothing can stop them. Aesthetic.

Megan has the lights turned back on and meets the two teams in the middle of the gym. Her megaphone squeals before she lays out the law.

"No stepping over the line. No fights. No spitting. _No leap frogging,_ " at this, she eyes Dick. He shrugs sheepishly and she continues, "Five rounds. First to three, wins. _Now get back to the starting lines_!"

Bart takes the headband Cassie offers him before he puts his hand on the wall.

Conner positions himself near the end of the lineup to maximize the odds of Wally getting to the balls first so he can toss him one and break loose form the group.

" _Three_ ," Megan shouts, holding three fingers in the air.

" _Two_!"

The crowd holds its breath.

" _One_ , go!"

No one is safe.


End file.
